


All Too Well

by masterof0ne



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Break Up, Eventual Happy Ending, I Had To, I'm Sorry, multi chap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterof0ne/pseuds/masterof0ne
Summary: The worst kind of breakup is one you don’t see coming...
Relationships: Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 32
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

The worst kind of breakup is one you don’t see coming. One day you’re meeting each other’s family and talking about moving in together, the next is vacant stares and _I’m sorry._

Amy wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t the most experienced in terms of relationships, but she had broken hearts and had her own broken often enough to know the warning signs of when a breakup was on the horizon. When conversation tapers off, when quirky little habits become character flaws, when you start wanting to spend more time at work than at home. 

There was none of that. Being a detective, and a damn good one at that, Amy doesn’t find herself blindsided very often. But there she was, frozen in place on the stoop of her apartment, his words reverberating through the cold February night, though he had long since disappeared from view. 

_I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. It’s over. We’re over._

If the words themselves weren’t enough to shatter her heart in an instant, the look on his face was. His eyes guarded, no trace of his ever-present grin. His mouth set in a firm, resolute line. She knew his face better than her own, and she knew his mind was made up. 

But that wouldn’t stop her from trying to change it anyway.

_“I don’t understand,”_ she had cried, more than a hint of panic in her voice. 

_“I don’t expect you to,”_ he had replied, his voice colder than she had ever heard it before. _“But I need to do this.”_

_He turned away and in a final act of desperation, she grabbed his sleeve. He turned and just for a second, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion behind his eyes but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared._

_“Goodbye,” he said firmly, resolutely._

_Tears streaming freely down her face, she called after him, “Fuck you, Jake Peralta. I’ll never forgive you for this.”_

_His retreating form didn’t pause, didn’t stutter. The only indication he had heard her was the slight slump in his shoulders as he walked off into the night._

Amy couldn’t say how long she stood on that stoop. It could have been five minutes or five days. Time stopped having meaning the second he left. It wasn’t until a neighbor pushed past her to get into the building that she broke from her trance. She was shaking hard, though whether it was to do with the temperature outside or the deep ache in her chest, she couldn’t say. 

Her limbs seemed to move of their own accord as she stumbled up the stairs and into her apartment, a space littered with reminders of _him_. 

One of his flannels draped over the couch, an orange soda can at the top of her recycling bin, a Die Hard DVD perched on the coffee table. 

Tomorrow, she would figure out how to move forward. For tonight, she had no room in her body for anything but the pain. 

She kicked off her shoes, for once not caring where they landed, and curled up on the couch wrapped in his shirt. She sobbed into the well-worn material, his scent still lingering on it, until she cried herself to sleep. 

When Amy woke up the next morning, still wrapped in his flannel, she felt bone-tired. It had been a long night of crying, waking up in uncomfortable positions, and extremely vivid dreams. More than that, though, she was mentally and emotionally exhausted. And absolutely _dreading_ seeing him at work. When they were dating, it had been nice sitting at desks across from one another. Sneaky glances, shared eyerolls, and nonverbal flirting had been the norm. There would be none of that anymore. In fact, she was sure if she looked him in the eye ever again, all she would see was that hauntingly guarded expression.

For the first time in her entire career, Amy seriously considered calling in sick. She had never taken a sick day in the past 7 years, not even when she had walking pneumonia and was on so many antibiotics that she couldn’t drive. 

_No_ , she thought resolutely as she picked herself off the couch and began her morning routine. He may have broken her heart, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of derailing her career on top of that. 

A quick glance in the mirror told her she looked like absolute hell. Her eyes were red and raw from so many hours of crying, her skin puffy, her hair a rat’s nest. Even though she didn’t really have time for it, she allowed herself a quick shower. It didn’t fix everything, she still had bags under her eyes that no amount of concealer could ever hide, but she felt more like herself afterwards. 

She decided to forego breakfast seeing as even glancing at the boxes of sugary cereal (his, of course) resulted in a wave of nausea. 

She arrived at the precinct a mere 5 minutes before the morning briefing, positively late when compared to her normal arrival time of 30 minutes before anyone else. 

She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see that he hadn’t arrived yet. She settled herself in for what was sure to be the longest day of her life. Jake was, by nature, a tardy person. It seemed to be against his DNA to be on-time, never mind early, for anything. 

So when he didn’t show by 9:30, it was hardly a surprise. It was a little more unusual when he didn’t arrive by 10am, but again, not unheard of. It wasn’t until 10:30, when he still hadn’t arrived, that Amy felt Boyle’s questioning gaze on her. She did her best to keep her head down and avoid eye contact with the small man. 

By 11am, Amy could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off Boyle from across the bullpen. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him stand up and take a step towards her, only to be cut off by Captain Holt. 

“Attention squad, I have an announcement. Detective Peralta has asked me to notify you all that he has taken a promotion with the FBI in their organized crime unit in San Francisco, effective immediately. He wished for me to tell you all that, uh,” Holt cleared his throat, “that he loves us all, and will miss us greatly. Dismissed.”

Holt returned to his office and shut his door, the sound echoing through the suddenly-silent precinct. Amy felt six pairs of eyes on her, but she couldn’t find it in her to care because her pounding heart was reverberating in her ears. Her breathing was turning shallow and through the dull roar, she felt the beginnings of a panic attack. 

Suddenly not caring about the six other detectives watching her every move, she pushed back her chair and sprinted out of the bullpen as fast as her legs would carry her. She ran through the first open door she found, and sunk to the floor. 

Her breathing was shallow, quick, and interspersed with the occasional mangled sob. 

_How could he do this?_

_He breaks her heart and runs away across the country to escape the fallout? To escape her?_

_Had she misread everything?_

_Was the entire relationship just one big joke to him?_

The more questions she asked herself, the harder it became to breathe. Vaguely, she clocked the feeling of someone’s hand rubbing her back, but due to the lack of oxygen and thick fog of tears, she didn’t even try to figure out who. 

Eventually, her breathing evened out and the flow of tears slowed. She lifted her head to, surprisingly, find that Rosa was the one rubbing her back. 

“He didn’t tell you.” It wasn’t a question. 

Amy shook her head, not trusting her voice just yet. 

“I’ll kill him.”

Amy let out a watery laugh. “D-don’t bother,” she stuttered out. “He was very clear that I’m not a priority to him.” 

Rosa looked at her blankly. _Oh, right. No one knew._

“Jake dumped me last night. No reasoning, no explanation, nothing. Almost a year together and he just shows up out of the blue and dumps me. And then can’t even face me like a man and runs off to California. Shows how much I meant to him.”

Rosa was speechless. Or she agreed. It was hard to tell, and Amy wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind to be deducing the very limited emotion on her face.

Finally Rosa sighed. “I’m sorry dude. That sucks. He sucks. And if he couldn’t be real with you then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Amy nodded silently, not in agreement but in acknowledgement. It was all she had to give. 

Rosa sat there with her in silence for a few minutes before climbing to her feet and offering a hand to Amy. “Come on,” she said.

“Rosa, I don’t know if I can back and pretend I’m fine.”

“You can’t. Everyone saw you run and you look like shit,” Rosa said bluntly. “So I’m gonna talk to the captain, and then I’m taking you home and we’re drinking until we pass out. Cool?”

Amy smiled weakly. “Cool.”

They exited what Amy now realized was the evidence locker. She almost laughed at the irony. This room was where their relationship had started, and now it was where she fell apart because it ended. Life was a real bitch sometimes. Amy waited by the elevator while Rosa slipped into Holt’s office, purposely looking down to avoid the gazes of her colleagues. It seemed that none of them knew what to say to her, because for once even Gina didn’t have a snarky comment. When Rosa finally emerged, they left the precinct together and for the first time in her career, Amy didn’t want to ever come back. 


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed slowly. February turned into March, March into April, April into May until suddenly, it was May 25th, just over 3 months since Jake left and his 35th birthday. 

Since Jake had left, Amy had tried her best to get her life back on track. After her breakdown in the precinct, she had stayed home for two days. She used the time to pack up everything of his into a box. Her apartment looked bare without touches of Jake, but she felt satisfied. She had taped up the box and shoved it into a dark corner of a rarely-used closet. She told herself that she would give it to Gina to send to him in San Francisco, but three months later it was still collecting dust. 

Rosa had been a godsend to Amy in the past few months. Rosa had developed a sixth sense for when Amy was about to fall apart, and was always there to bodycheck Charles back to his desk, coach her through a panic attack, or get a drink after a particularly hard day. 

It was by far the most difficult breakup she had ever had. They had dated less than a year, which in comparison to her college boyfriend of 4 years, was nothing. But it had been different with Jake. They had plans for the future and even though it was less than a year, Amy had been certain that this was it. That Jake was the one. 

It had gotten easier for Amy in the passing months. She had a Jake-sized hole in her heart, but for the most part she was able to focus on work instead of the man who used to be her everything. But every now and then, usually when she least expected it, something would remind her of him and she was left feeling like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her. 

The first time was in March. Amy had been feeling better, well enough to join Rosa and Gina for a girls night out, of sorts. Before going to the bar, they had arranged to meet up at Gina’s apartment for a few drinks. It was going well, and Amy was having fun for the first time since his departure a month prior. That is, until she was admiring Gina’s collection of faux-fur coats and saw a scarf draped over a chair in Gina’s bedroom. The scarf looked familiar, and she picked it up to get a closer look. A lump appeared in her throat as she realized why it looked so familiar - it was hers. Jake had gotten it for her as a present that fall. 

_It was early November and unseasonably chilly. Amy, who was liable to get cold in July, was bundled up in her thickest winter coat and still shaking like a chihuahua. Her and Jake were walking back to work from the little diner two blocks from the precinct where they had spent their lunch hour. They passed a street vendor selling candy, novelty t-shirts, and other assorted items. Usually, they would just continue walking, but today something had caught Jake’s eye. For a moment, he looked like he was going to ask her to hang back, but one look at her shivering form and he changed his mind._

_“You go on ahead, Ames. I’ll meet you back there.”_

_She had accepted, wanting to be back inside as soon as possible and she speed-walked back to the station. Jake returned just ten minutes after her with a suspiciously bright smile and a black plastic bag. She spent the rest of her shift pestering him to tell her what he had gotten and he adamantly refused. Eventually she gave up, content to give him the silent treatment._

_When 5pm rolled around, he had taken up trying to annoy her into speaking to him. It was not working._

_“Amessss,” he cajoled as she donned her coat again. “Ames if you speak to me I’ll show you what’s in the bag.”_

_She turned to him and cocked an eyebrow. He grinned back and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, you win,” she said, irritation seeping into her voice._

_“I know,” he said, opening the bag and pulling out a beautifully thick deep blue scarf._

_Annoyance quickly forgotten, Amy beamed at him, “Is that for me?”_

_“No it’s for my other girlfriend. D’you think she’d like it?”_

_Amy rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him. “Yes, it’s for you,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Because I don’t want you turning into a human popsicle on the walk to the parking garage.”_

_She reached up to pull him into a sweet kiss, a rare public display of affection at work. “I love it. Thank you, Jake.”_

_She had worn the scarf proudly every day for the next two months, until she and Jake had gone for drinks with the squad and Amy forgot it in their booth at Shaw’s. She had never seen it again._

“Amy, you good? You’ve bene staring at that thing for like twenty minutes.” Rosa’s voice interrupted her reverie. 

Amy cleared her throat twice before answering, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

“No you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Amy sighed, Rosa had really gotten too good at reading her. 

“It’s just that this is my scarf. Ja-” she cut herself off, his name suddenly bitter in her mouth. “He got this for me in the fall. I thought I lost it.” 

Rosa nodded in understanding, before crossing the room and gently prying it out of her hands. “It’s almost summer, Amy. You don’t need a scarf anymore.” 

Amy looked up into Rosa’s eyes and nodded. She understood Rosa wasn’t talking about the scarf anymore.  She took a deep breath. “You’re right. Let’s head out.” 

The next time it happened was about a month later at work, when Facebook traitorously reminded her that it was Karen Peralta’s birthday. Amy had immediate flashbacks to the summer, when she and Jake had driven upstate to his mom’s house for the first time. It was one of the most perfect days in Amy’s memory. 

_Amy grew up in New Jersey, so she knew that everything was prettier outside of the city. But she had been in New York since she was 18 at NYU and rarely ventured out to her parents’ home in Jersey, so the scenic drive through upstate New York took her breath away._

_Jake was being more charming than usual, he had told her about 50 times in the past hour how beautiful she looked and how happy he was that she was meeting his mom. She was deliriously happy, so much so that she could only laugh when he almost rear ended the car in front of them because he was paying too much attention to her and not enough to the road._

_Karen Peralta was a sunny woman with the same sense of humor as her son. It wasn’t hard to see how much of an influence she had on Jake, being his only parent for so long. Amy spent the day feeling like her heart could explode from the adorableness of Jake’s relationship with his mom and the happiness in his eyes at having his two favorite girls in the same room._

_He didn’t even complain (too loudly) when his mom brought out the photographs of him as a kid._

_The first one was of toddler Jake, clearly on the move with his diaper on his head. Amy laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe._

_The next was of a slightly older Jake, about 5 or 6, sitting on his racecar bed with big round glasses, an untamed mass of curly hair, and the biggest buck-toothed smile. Amy suddenly had visions of what her and Jake’s son would look like, before shoving those thoughts away. It was way too soon to be thinking of mini-Peraltiagos running around. Nevertheless, she took a photo of it for later._

_The next was of Jake, around the same age, but dressed in a baseball uniform and posing with a bat. Amy cooed over the photo while Karen regaled them of stories of Jake running the wrong way around the bases and sitting down in the outfield to play with the dandelions._

_Later, when they were back in the city, she had asked him why that was the only photo of him playing baseball, and Jake had told her about his father being the coach until he took off._

_“I quit baseball when he left. It just kind of sucked after that.”_

_Amy had taken him into her arms and pressed kisses all over his face, vowing to never let him feel so abandoned ever again._

_Of course, she never once considered that she might be the abandoned one._

Later that day, she told Rosa about the memories while nursing a large glass of red wine. Rosa had taken it upon herself to delete every social media app on Amy’s phone. 

“There,” she said handing Amy’s phone back. “If you want to know what’s going on in the world, you’ll have to ask Gina, and then you won’t want to know ever again.”

Amy had laughed and clinked her glass to Rosa’s. 

She would never admit it, but she re-downloaded Facebook once or twice after that and stalked Jake’s profile. He was occasionally tagged in photos by his mom or other members of his unit, but other than that his profile never changed. His relationship status stayed as “Single” and his profile picture remained a selfie of him and Holt. 

She would also never admit that she was pleased to see his relationship status stayed as single. Not that she cared. 

On May 25th, Amy woke up with a feeling of dread. She’d had this date marked in her calendar since she got it in January. And stupid her, she had circled it in red permanent marker. She should have known better, the first rule of keeping a calendar is to write in pencil in case things change. 

And that would have been fine, she could have just pushed on with work and tried to ignore the date, except she had requested today off work months ago, when she thought she would be celebrating with the birthday boy himself. By the time she remembered, it was too late to say “nevermind.” She had tried to convince Captain Holt to let her work anyway, but he refused. 

“Santiago,” he had said when she asked. “I know that date will be difficult for you, but you should take the personal day. You will likely be distracted all day at work, and I daresay Detective Boyle will not make it any easier on you.” 

She had lowered her eyes so she was staring at her shoes, trying desperately to swallow the lump in her throat. 

“I do not mean to be insensitive,” he said softly and with uncharacteristic kindness in his eyes. “I know you have had a difficult few months and I commend you on your hard work and dedication. Take a day to yourself.”

Six months ago, a commendation from Holt would have been the best thing to have ever happened to her. She would have spent weeks telling anyone who would listen, or dissecting his word choice to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. Now, however, it felt like a consolation prize. She nodded and gave him a halfhearted smile. “May I be dismissed, sir?”

“Yes, you may. Good luck, Santiago.”

So now Amy found herself with Jake on her mind and no distraction available. She decided she would take Holt’s advice and take the day for herself. 

After spending an abnormally long time in bed, Amy got up and showered. Her plan for the day was to get a haircut, get her nails done, and maybe hit up her favorite stationary store. Instead of laying around feeling sorry for herself she was going to have a “treat yourself” day, something she almost never engaged in. 

Of course, those plans went out the window pretty much immediately. She was rooting around her rarely-used storage closet, looking for a pair of open toed shoes she was sure she had tucked away in here last summer, when her hand connected with the box of Jake’s old stuff. 

She had a quick debate with herself about whether or not she should do it, before deciding _what the hell_. 

She tugged out the box, which was covered in an inch-thick layer of dust. It was still sealed from the night three months ago when she had packed it up. Using her keychain, she slit the tape on the box and opened it up. 

The first thing on top was his old flannel, the one she had cried into the night of the breakup. Despite spending three months in a cardboard box, the smell of his cologne wafted up to her. Her eyes filled with tears. It had been three months, and his old scent made her heart hurt like it was yesterday. 

She didn’t bother wiping her eyes, she knew there would be more tears where those came from. Instead she carefully re-folded the flannel and placed it on the floor next to the box. The next thing she pulled out was a mini snow globe. Jake had bought it for her around Christmas. Inside was a snowman, sunbathing on the beach. She remembered how hard she had laughed at the tacky little trinket and how proudly she had displayed it on her bookshelf. 

The next item was the complete box set of the Harry Potter books. Technically, they weren’t his but he had become so enraptured in them so quickly, she could only associate Harry Potter with Jake now. That was a true shame, given how much she had loved the series. The box set quickly joined the flannel and the snow globe on the floor. 

There wasn’t much left in the box, except for an assortment of clothes and DVDs. As she lifted those out, her hand brushed against something hard. She moved a sweatshirt out of the way to reveal the object. It was a small gold placard he had made for himself after the first Halloween Heist. It read “Jake Peralta - Ultimate Detective/Genius”. It had resided on his desk at work for two years, before he caught Amy staring at it one day. She had brushed it off, but later that night he had come over to hang out and brought the placard with him. He had nailed it into her wall, saying “ _Just so everyone who comes over knows how brilliant your boyfriend is.”_

The relationship was so new at the time and she had pretended to be put out, saying she was going to lose her security deposit if he kept putting holes in her walls. But secretly, she had beenso pleased at the way he said “your boyfriend” that she would have let him knock down a whole wall if he’d wanted to. 

By this point, the tears were flowing freely down Amy’s face. She gripped the placard close to her chest and stayed there in silence for a long time. 

Eventually, she wiped her tears away, and carefully repacked the box and sealed it back up again. She still had Jake’s mom’s address saved in her phone from their trip upstate, so she scribbled that on the outside of the box. 

“I have to let you go,” she whispered. She collected her things and, box in hand, left her apartment. She dropped the package off at the nearest post office. It was time to move on from Jake Peralta. For realz. The package was returned to her a week later, with a “Not at this address” note. Amy shoved it back into the closet and did her best to forget about it. 

She was moving on. 

Of course, as she would come to realize later, fate had a funny way of messing up even the best intentions. 

When her phone rang at 2:45am, Amy was annoyed but not surprised. One of the hazards of being a detective was the occasional middle of the night phone call about a case. 

“Hullo,” she answered, not bothering to check caller ID.

There was quiet on the other end, and just as she was about to hang up she heard a quiet voice say, “Ames?”

Suddenly wide awake, Amy shot up. “Jake?”

“It’s me.” 

There were a million thoughts running through her mind all at once. So many questions she wanted to ask. The one that jumped out immediately was, “Why are you calling at almost 3 in the morning?” _Why are you calling at all?_

He swore and the familiarity of it almost made her smile. Almost. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I forgot about the stupid time difference.”

She said nothing. She was still waiting for the reason. 

“Are you still there?” He asked after a minute. 

“I’m here,” she responded curtly. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

He groaned quietly, a frustrated little sound she was all too familiar with. She could picture him running his hand through his hair, making the already-unruly curls even messier than usual.

“I know. And I’m sorry about, you know, waking you up. I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Did you call to tell me that?” She asked, not even caring how rude she sounded. She figured she had a right to be rude to him. 

“No. I called because… well I don’t really know why. Except that it’s my birthday, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

“Jake…,” she started, voice softening ever so slightly. 

“I know, I know,” he said, and she could hear the frustration mounting in his voice. He took a deep breath. “I know I have no right to be thinking about you and I especially have no right to be calling in the middle of the night after everything I did and I’m sorry, I’m just really sorry. And you can hang up if you want, I’ve just had a really shitty day and it’s my birthday and you’re the only person I want to talk to. I just needed to hear your voice.”

Amy honestly didn’t know how she was still alive. How many times can a person’s heart break before it stops beating?

“I was thinking about you all day today, too.” She said once he had finished rambling. “I kept thinking about how I had plans to take you to Coney Island today so we could ride roller coasters and eat cotton candy until our mouths turned blue and then watch the sunset together.” 

She took a deep breath before continuing. “But you left, Jake. You broke my heart and I have spent the past three months trying to put it back together and I can’t, because I don’t even know where we went wrong. I keep playing back the past year in my head and I just don’t know what I did to make you leave me, leave New York.” 

She was crying for the umpteenth time that day. 

When Jake spoke, she could tell he was crying, too. “Amy, you didn’t do a single damn thing wrong, okay? Not a single thing. I was happier with you than I’ve ever been in my whole life. Don’t you dare think that you did something wrong.” 

“So what was I supposed to think?” She asked, somewhat hysterically. “You left, Jake. You left. Without an explanation, without anything. You broke my heart and moved across the country to get away from me. Was it the job? Was an FBI job that much more important to you than me?” 

“Ames,” he started, but she cut him off. 

“Don’t call me that. I can’t stand to hear you say my name like that after everything.”

“Amy,” he tried again. “I never wanted to leave you, you have to believe me. That was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“So why did you do it?” 

He was silent. “I shouldn’t have called,” he eventually said. 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Amy answered. Her heart was in pieces, but she was resolute. “I hope you found everything you were looking for, Jake. And I truly wish you all the best. But you can’t call anymore. I can’t do this again, I can’t be in pieces over you when you won’t even tell me why.”  
  
“Amy, wait,” he cried desperately.

“Goodbye, Jake.” She hung up the phone. It rang twice after that, but she just let it ring as she, not for the first time, cried herself to sleep over Jacob Peralta. 

While her phone call with Jake had been messy and painful, it provided some much needed closure. She missed him every day, and didn’t think that feeling would ever truly go away, but she was able to move forward in her life. She was on her way to becoming Amy Santiago again, rather than the left behind half of Jake and Amy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it won't be this emo forever lol. Thanks for the nice comments and kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little chapter!

In July, Charles held a party to celebrate his and Genevieve’s adoption of a little boy named Nikolaj. Niko was adorable, if not thoroughly confused by the party around him. It had been several months since Jake’s departure, and Charles had taken it almost as badly as Amy. 

She had been so caught up in her own inner turmoil, she hadn’t realized that Jake had cut himself off from the rest of the squad too in the wake of his absence. Charles, his best friend, hadn’t heard more than two words from him since he left in February. Charles was positively devastated. He had wanted Jake to be Niko’s godfather, but as no one could reach him, he’d instead asked Amy to be godmother. 

They both knew she was a replacement for their Gone Guy, but she accepted it gracefully. 

She hadn’t told the squad, except Rosa, about Jake’s phone call in May. There was no need. Nothing had changed, he wasn’t coming back, and there was no point in letting everyone in on her heartbreak. They had seen more than enough of it already. 

The summer was good to her. She had a new partner at work, Detective Shelly Hartford. Hartford didn’t fill the void Jake had left in their precinct, but she was a damn good detective with the biggest heart of all of them. 

Amy had started going on dates again. Usually with men her mother picked out for her, but occasionally with Rosa or Gina’s friends. She made the mistake of letting Charles set her up once, but never again. Dana Boyle was the weirdest man she had ever met, and that was saying a lot. 

Regardless, all of the dates went pretty much the same. She would sit there politely, but quietly comparing them to Jake. It wasn’t fair to them, and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to her, but her traitorous brain couldn’t help itself. 

Eventually, summer turned into fall. The leaves changed and the streets got colder. Amy did her best not to remember Jake running through Prospect Park last fall, jumping in piles of leaves like a child. She did her best not to remember nights spent in front of the TV with hot chocolate. She did her best not to think of him, period. But he always crept in. 

Amy was feeling more like herself every day. That is, until Gina’s screech permeated the bullpen one October morning. Gina screeching wasn’t an abnormal experience in and of itself, but the following tears were. 

The whole squad gathered around her desk, including Holt who had heard her scream from his office. 

“Gina, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“Talk to us, Gina.”

Everyone was speaking all at once trying to figure out what was going on. Gina could only gasp and point to her phone. 

Amy picked it up and saw that it was open to a Facebook post. Jake’s, of course. She ignored the clenching of her heart as she read aloud to the rest of the squad. 

_“My beautiful mother, Karen Peralta, passed away this morning at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital after succumbing to a rare brain tumor that she has been fighting for over a year now._

_Anyone who knows me knows how much I loved my mother. She was my mother, my father, my best friend, and the strongest person I know. She fought for over a decade to make sure I was happy, healthy, and loved, even while working herself to the bone to make sure of it._

_Getting to spend these past 8 months with her, taking care of her, and fighting alongside her have been the toughest and most rewarding of my life, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world._

_Mom, I love you more than anything. Thank you for giving me the best of you for the past 35 years. All I am is because of you. I’ll miss you forever.”_

Attached to the post was several pictures of Jake and his mom spanning his entire lifetime, and funeral arrangements. 

By the time she finished reading, Amy had tears rolling down her cheeks, as did about half the squad. Gina’s head was in her hands and her shoulders were shaking. 

Boyle’s mouth kept opening and closing, as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find any words. 

Captain Holt was the first to speak. He said, “Peralta is and always will be a part of this squad. I will be attending his mother’s funeral to show my support, all of you are welcome and encouraged to do the same.” 

One by one, the squad agreed they would attend. First Charles, then Rosa, Gina, Terry, and even Hitchcock and Scully. Everyone’s eyes were on Amy. 

“You don’t have to,” Rosa whispered to her. “You’re allowed to still be hurt.” 

Amy nodded, but didn’t say anything while she contemplated. Finally, she lifted her eyes to the rest of the group and said, “Regardless of everything, it’s Jake. Of course I’ll go.” 

Gina, surprisingly, was the first to head over to Amy and wrap her in a hug. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. Amy understood. 

The next few days were a buzz of activity. Everyone was planning flights, packing bags, finishing up whatever cases they could, and briefing their replacements on the ones still open. 

Amy slept about 6 hours total in the three days before their flight. She packed and repacked her suitcase four times. They were only staying three days and two nights before having to return to Brooklyn, but Amy was having serious anxiety about the whole thing. 

What do you wear to see your ex-boyfriend at his mother’s funeral?

For the millionth time since he left, Amy could not get her mind off Jake. Despite everything, she really, truly loved him, and the thought of him in so much pain had her heart twisting itself into knots. 

She couldn’t even count the number of times her finger hovered over his contact in her phone. She wanted to call, so badly, but she didn’t even know what she would say. Every time she almost hit the call button, she talked herself out of it. 

In absolutely no time, the Nine-Nine was boarding their flight from LaGuardia to San Francisco. It was a five and a half hour flight, and no movie or music could distract her.Especially not with Charles sat next to her, blowing his nose into a frankly disgusting hankie every two minutes. 

Amy’s mind was in overdrive, probably thanks to the endless coffee and lack of sleep. Her brain was trying to connect the dots between Jake’s leaving. 

_He found out his mom was sick, so he wanted to be with her._

_But why San Francisco?_

_Why the FBI?_

_Why didn’t he tell me anything?_

The last one was perhaps the hardest to wrap her head around. Jake’s Facebook post had said she was battling the tumor for over a year. Jake left New York eight months ago. How long had he known? And why couldn’t he tell his girlfriend, the woman he was practically living with, the one he was making future plans with?

At some point, she fell asleep in her musings, because the next thing she knew, she was being poked awake by Charles, slumped over in her seat with her mouth feeling like she had chewed on cotton balls. 

“We’re landing soon,” Charles said, eyes watering still. Amy nodded, and returned to an upright position in her seat. Her anxiety was increasing by the second, and by the time the wheels hit the tarmac she was focusing so hard on breathing in and out that she didn’t notice until everyone around them stood up and stretched. 

As she went to stand up too, Charles grabbed her hand and looked her in the eyes. “Amy, I know this is tough, but Jake is going to be so happy to see you.”

Amy gave him a sad smile. He meant well, even if his words cut her deeply. “Thanks, Charles,” she managed and continued to stand up. 

Because their flight got in to San Francisco close to 8pm, by the time they made it to their hotel, the entire group was wiped. They had to be up early the next morning, so most of them decided to go straight to bed. Amy was sharing a room with Rosa. Amy didn’t say a word as she hung up the dress she was planning on wearing and prepared for bed. The past few days had been so exhausting, she didn’t even have it in her to say goodnight. Of course it was _Rosa_ , so she needn’t have worried. The scary detective was more than happy to skip pleasantries. Though terrified and anxious for the day to come, Amy was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Another side effect of not sleeping. 

Amy woke up promptly at 8:30am. The service began at 11, but knowing Hitchcock and Scully’s penchants for disaster, the squad planned to meet in the hotel lobby no later than 10:15.Seeing as Rosa was still fast asleep, Amy took the opportunity to take a long, hot shower. It did little to ease her nerves, but the hot water was soothing on her tense back muscles. 

When she got out of the shower, Rosa was bleary-eyed but awake. 

“I made coffee,” she said nodding to the mini coffee maker on the desk. She pushed past Amy and started running her own shower. 

“How are you doing? You know, with everything?” Rosa asked, her head sticking out of the doorway to the bathroom. 

“Me? Psh, I’m fine. Cool as hell.” Amy’s voice sounded squeaky, even to herself.

“Clearly. Just remember, funerals aren’t so much for the dead, they’re for the ones left behind. I know what Jake did sucks, and you have every reason to still hate him. But just remember that as hard as today is for you, it’s a thousand times worse for him.”

Amy nodded slightly. “I’m gonna get dressed now,” she said in lieu of a response to that.

Rosa shrugged and shut the door to the bathroom. 

As Amy dressed, she contemplated Rosa’s words. _Funerals are for the ones left behind_. 

She was right, in a way. Funerals were a chance for the family and loved ones to say their last goodbyes, to make peace with the loss of their loved ones. 

Jake loved his mom more than anything in the world, she could still see the light in his eyes sitting in her kitchen that day last summer, even as Karen and Amy poured over embarrassing baby pictures of him. The way he would get all breathless and excited talking to her on the phone. _As hard as today is for you, it’s a thousand times worse for him_.

By the time the water shut off in the bathroom, she had decided she was going to be mature when she saw Jake. She never had any intentions of being anything but, it was a funeral after all, but she was going to avoid any painful or difficult conversations. There was a time and place to talk to your ex about your breakup, and his mother’s funeral was not one of them. Rosa dressed quickly, and the two of them made their way downstairs. 

Unsurprisingly, Holt was the first one to arrive and wait for his team. One by one, the rest of the group showed up. Even Hitchcock and Scully, despite a brief miscalculation with a tie, were dressed and ready to leave by 10:30. The whole group was in a somber mood. They had been to funerals as a squad together, but never one so personal and painful. 

When they arrived at the cemetery, Amy was pleased to note that there was a big crowd. From the age range and general look of the gatherers, they seemed to be mostly Jake’s colleagues rather than his mom’s friends. _Funerals are for the ones left behind_. It was unsurprising, given Jake’s ability to charm and woo just about anyone with his childlike wonder and wit. 

Jake himself was stood at the front of the aisle of chairs, dressed handsomely in a dark suit. Amy’s breath caught in her throat when she saw him. He looked the same, maybe a little leaner and more toned than he had been in Brooklyn, with a few more lines on his face, but overall the same. He hadn’t seen them yet, he was currently shaking the hands of the elderly couple in front of him. 

Amy maneuvered herself towards the back of the Nine-Nine. She had no intention of ignoring him, she just didn’t want to see the look on his face when he saw them. 

Holt took charge and led the group towards Peralta. “Jacob, I am very sorry for your loss. We all know how special your mother was to you, and we all wished to pay our respects and offer condolences.” 

Jake smiled, a sad, wobbly little thing that held nothing of the joy once ever-present. “It means a lot that you all came. I would’ve understood, after just up and leaving you all but-“

He was interrupted by Boyle’s full-force hug. He laughed a little, and Amy’s heart soared. He cleared his throat and continued, “Other than my mom, you all have always been my family. Thanks, really.” 

He received hugs from Terry and Gina. Rosa slugged him on the arm, her usual form of affection. Scully and Hitchcock shook his hand. When his gaze landed on Amy, she saw the tears shining in his eyes. 

The rest of the group not-so-subtly wandered away to find their seats, leaving the two of them standing a few feet apart. 

“Amy, thank you for coming. I…I didn’t think you would.” He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, they were half raised, but he quickly dropped them to his sides. She took one look at him and closed the gap between them with a tight hug. With only the slightest hesitation, he squeezed her back just as tightly.

“I’ll always show up for you, Peralta.” She pulled away and found herself looking directly into his eyes. “Always.” She released him, as quite a line was forming behind her. He nodded, his eyes conveying the thanks he couldn’t quite manage to push out. 

Amy found her way to the rest of the Nine Nine and dropped into a seat next to Rosa. She brushed off any attempts to ask if she was okay. _As hard as today is for you, it’s a thousand times worse for him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and reviews! I promise this story has a happy ending, it's just a quite a bit of angst before then. Next chapter should be up sometime this weekend. 
> 
> When I started posting this story, I did so hoping it would give me some motivation to keep writing, and it did! I have it almost completely finished. I'm stuck on the last two chapters, so hopefully that motivation will keep me invested in it. As always reviews, criticism, and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

The service was brief, but beautiful. Amy wasn’t a religious person, but she found herself wiping tears away at the rabbi’s beautiful sermon. 

At it’s conclusion, right after the casket was lowered into the ground, Jake stood up before everyone and spoke, “My mom and I are Jewish, but I know for a fact she wouldn’t want us to sit Shiva for a week. The week before she passed, she said to me, ‘Jacob, don’t you dare bring a hundred people into my house to sit around talking about me.’” He chuckled as he wiped his eyes. “So instead, there’s a little reception at the hotel around the corner. Drink, eat, laugh. That’s exactly what she would want. Thank you all for coming.” His eyes found Amy’s at this last sentence, and she couldn’t help but feel it was directed at her. 

Mourners all around them stood up and began meandering back out of the cemetery. The Nine Nine rose to join them, but Amy caught sight of Jake, still standing up at the front staring down into his mother’s grave. 

“You all go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” she said to the squad. Rosa looked towards Jake and then back to Amy, cocking an eyebrow in question. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered. Rosa nodded, and grabbed Charles as he moved towards Amy. 

“Let it go, Boyle,” she whispered threateningly at him. Charles looked like he was about to protest, but Amy had turned away. She made her way through the sea of mourners up to where Jake was standing. She could see by the shaking of his shoulders that he was desperately trying, and failing, not to cry. 

She wordlessly slipped her hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. Jake looked over at her, then back down to the casket. 

“I don’t want it to be real,” he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear. 

“I know,” she said. “I know.” 

He stood there for a few more minutes before collecting himself and using his free hand to wipe away the escaped tears. 

He looked at her, and the pain in his eyes cut deeper than any heartbreak she had endured over the past few months. 

“Ames,” he started, but she cut him off. 

“Jake, not here, not now, alright? It’s okay.” 

He shook his head. “It’s not. It’s not okay, but can we talk?” 

One look into his eyes, seeing the desperation swirling around, and she found herself nodding. “Later. Right now, we’re helping you say goodbye.” 

He nodded. Together, they set off towards the hotel. He didn’t let go of her hand. 

The pair was separated at the reception as colleagues and friends alike descended upon him to offer their condolences and check up on him. The Nine-Nine sat in a corner booth. It was a quiet affair, everyone making small talk but not wanting to draw any attention to themselves. Everyone was in silent agreement that they would sit and wait for Jake to find them. Amy forced herself to keep remembering that she wasn’t the only one Jake had left that February evening. This entire squad was a family, and Jake had played a crucial role in making them as tight-knit as they were. 

Eventually, Jake made his way over to their booth. There were still quite a few people milling about, but it seemed like everyone had said what they needed to for the moment. He slipped into the seat next to Gina, who wordlessly lay her head on his shoulder. It was no secret that Gina and Jake were as close as siblings. With his dad walking out and hers dying when she was young, their moms had leaned on one another to raise their kids as normally as possible. 

“Thanks again for coming, guys,” Jake said, looking around the group. 

They all nodded or raised their drink to him. It was Terry who vocalized their thoughts, saying, “Of course, man. You’re family, and family shows up for one another.” 

Jake smiled, another tight-lipped, watery thing that had no business being there on a man who’s optimism and playfulness had come to be his defining traits. 

The squad chatted about little things, like work and families. Eventually, Jake’s eyes caught Amy’s from across the table. 

“Can we…?” he trailed off, his head nodding towards the door.

Amy nodded silently and moved to get up. She felt her squad’s eyes on hers, but thankfully even Charles managed to keep his questions to himself for the moment. None of this was normal, and they were all trying to keep the peace. 

As they walked out of the hotel, Jake grabbed Amy’s hand again. Instinct was telling her to pull back, to not put herself in the position of getting hurt again. But Rosa’s words kept echoing in her mind. _As hard as today is for you, it’s a thousand times worse for him_.

They walked aimlessly in quiet. Quick glances at his face told Amy that Jake was struggling with himself. She knew too well from being his partner that when Jake was trying to figure out what to do, it was best to let him fight it out in his mind before interjecting. 

Eventually, they came to a park bench and sat down. There was a little river across from them with ducks and children alike splashing about. 

Jake turned to her and she was taken aback by the sheer amount of emotion in his eyes. 

“Ames,” he started. “Amy. I owe you an apology. Well, I owe you a lot more than that, but first let me start by saying I am so so sorry. I’m sorry that I walked away from you, that I let you believe for even a second that you didn’t mean the world to me. Because you do. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life, and there isn’t a day that I don’t think about you.” 

He looked so distraught, so sickened with himself that Amy found herself rubbing his back comfortingly. She knew that, as the wronged party here, she should be angry, she should be yelling at him. But she couldn’t.

“Jake,” she finally said, and he pulled his head out of his hands. “I get it, kind of. But I think I need more of an explanation.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “It started last year,” he began. “Mom was sick for a few months before she even told me. At first, the doctors were optimistic. She didn’t have any symptoms except a headache that wouldn’t go away. 

“She did chemo, but when the scans came back, the tumor had grown. A lot. None of the neurosurgeons in New York felt comfortable operating on something that big. There was a doctor here, though, who said he would try treating it. It was her only option, the doctors in New York wanted to put her in hospice care.

“So in February, she told me. She said she had sold her house and that she was moving here. She said that even if it didn’t work, she wanted to know that she tried everything possible. She-,” his voice cut off with a strangled sound. 

“She said that I taught her that no matter the odds you have to fight.” He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, which were once again leaking with tears he didn’t want to fall. 

“It wasn’t even a question. I told her I was coming with her.” His eyes turned to Amy’s, begging her to understand. “She was there for me my entire life. When my dad left, she worked three jobs just so we could keep the apartment, so that I never had to worry about food, so that I always had new shoes on the first day of school. She worked herself to the bone for me for so many years, I couldn’t let her come here and face this on her own. And ever since I worked the Iannucci case, the FBI said there was a place for me in the OCU. So I left her house and called up the head of the New York office and requested to be placed in San Francisco. And that night.. that’s when I came to you and ended it.”

The two sat in silence for awhile as Amy processed what he had said. She had quite a few questions bumping around her head. But they were all too painful to ask, especially without hearing the rest of the story. 

“What happened with the treatment?” She finally asked. 

“They operated. And it was a success. They weren’t sure she’d survive the surgery, or even if she did whether or not she’d wake up. But she survived, and she woke up the next day and was talking and laughing. I thought it was over. I thought there would be a month or two of recovery and that we’d be able to head back to New York. That I’d be able to come back home to you.”

“But it didn’t,” she surmised, her heart skipping painfully over the words _back home to you_. 

“They kept her in recovery for another month. Before she was scheduled to be released, they did some more scans, just a routine thing. But the tumor had grown back. Aggressively. And the doctor said there was too much scar tissue to risk going back in surgically. They said they’d try with chemo but because it didn’t work the first time…,” he trailed off, looking at the stream ahead with unseeing eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she murmured, knowing the words would offer little comfort. He nodded along anyway. 

“I just…” she started to say, before stopping with a frustrated sigh. “I just don’t understand why you thought you couldn’t tell me about any of this. I would have understood, I would’ve given you all the time in the world for something like this.”

“I know that,” he said, turning to her. “I know that, and it wasn’t that I thought you wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t want me to go. I know you, and I know you would have put me on the plane yourself.” 

“So why-” she started, but he cut her off. 

“It’s because of that, Ames. You would have been so loving, so supportive, and told me that I needed to be in San Francisco. But I couldn’t do that to you. I could never have asked you to let me go for God knows how long. I couldn’t have asked you to wait for me, knowing there would be days and weeks where I couldn’t so much as send you a text update between work, and driving my mom to appointments, and sitting up with her all night when the chemo made her so sick that she begged for it to end. I couldn’t have been half as present with her, knowing that you were at home, worried about me, waiting for me to come home.” He took a big breath. 

“When I say leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, I mean it. It killed me to see the look on your face when I said it was over. The next morning, before my flight, I stood outside the Nine-Nine for two hours, forcing myself not to go up and tell you I didn’t want to leave you. I thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and who you were with. I almost called you every single night for 3 months before I actually did. And then I called you on my birthday, having just found out the surgery didn’t work, and the pain in your voice ripped me to shreds. Knowing I caused that, and that I couldn’t tell you the real reason why. It killed me to leave you, Ames. But I had to.” 

Jake was fully crying at this point and Amy was doing her best to stop herself from joining in.

“I understand,” she said. He looked at her with surprise, having probably expected her to call him a jerk, an asshole, anything under the sun. He wouldn’t have blamed her. “I hate that you did it,” she continued. “I hate so much that you did it, and without an explanation. But I understand. You needed to be there for your mom, 100%. I just wish I had known. I wish I could have been there to help you through it.” 

Jake and Amy sat in complete silence for a long time, the weight of everything they had just said hanging over them. It was only when the sun had set that Jake suggested he walk her back to the hotel. She agreed, and they set off back in the direction they had come from. 

“So where do we go from here?” Amy asked.

“I don’t know,” Jake answered honestly. “In some ways, it feels so good to have you know, like its this giant weight that’s been lifted off my chest. But in other ways, it doesn’t really fix this mess I made. I don’t know how you even begin to fix it.”

“Well, how about when you get back to New York, we sit down and really talk about this, about us.” 

When Jake didn’t answer, Amy looked up into his eyes. What she saw etched onto his face was a crushing blow to her already-fragile heart and made her stop short. 

“Unless,” she started, unable to finish the sentence. “You’re not coming back, are you?” 

Jake shook his head slowly. “I can’t. My contract here has another few months in it. And… and I don’t know if I’d even be able to walk around Brooklyn anymore. I think I’d just see ghosts. The diner my mom used to work at, the elementary school she taught art in, the streets we used to take when she walked me to school? How could I walk those roads and not think of her at every corner?”

Amy felt the tears, hot and insistent against her eyelids. This time, she didn’t even bother trying to push them back and just allowed them to stream down her cheeks. Jake pulled her into his chest and she sobbed against him, knowing she was probably ruining his shirt. She felt a couple of his own tears drip onto her head. 

When she ran out of tears, she pulled back and wiped her eyes. She leaned upwards and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Goodbye, Jake.” 

And with that, she walked back to the hotel alone. And if Rosa heard her crying herself to sleep that night, she was kind enough to never bring it up. 

In the weeks and months following the funeral, days passed. Not quite as slowly as they once had, but rather with a blur of one day bleeding into the next with no real distinction between them. 

Amy felt…well, she felt okay. She was a long way away from the person she had once been. She was still organized to the point of obsession, she still had the highest arrest rate of any detective in the Nine-Nine. She spent her weekends hanging out with Nikolaj or with her nieces and nephews. She dated some, and was pleased to see that she was no longer comparing former suitors to Jake. Of course, none of the dates were really that special, but she was putting herself out there. She wasn’t fine, but she was okay. And that’s a lot better than she had felt in a long time. 

It was February, almost a year exactly since Jake had left, when Rosa decided it was time. 

“Okay,” she said, plopping herself down on the chair beside Amy’s desk. Amy politely put down her pen and directed her attention at Rosa, nonverbally welcoming her to continue. 

“I think it’s time. I know a guy and I think you two would work well together.” 

Amy groaned. “Rosa, I tried the dates last year. After the Dana incident I told you, Charles, and Gina that I was done dating the guys you picked out.” 

Rosa waved her off. “This is different. I’ve known Micah since college. You guys would be perfect together, I just didn’t want to introduce you until I was sure you were ready to move on. And I think you are.”

Amy was still skeptical. “Tell me about him and I’ll think about it.” 

Rosa rolled her eyes but complied. “Okay, well, his name is Micah. He used to be second-chair violin in the New York Philharmonic. They offered him first chair like four times but he declined, said he wanted to enjoy the music without the added pressure or some crap like that. Now he teaches an after-school music program at a school a couple blocks from here.” 

Despite herself, Amy was intrigued. Back when she was a student at NYU she would use her student discount to see the Philharmonic as much as she could. Once she became a cop, she had significantly less time and saw it less often, but still had a deep love for the music. _Damn Rosa for knowing her so well_. 

“Fine. One date.” Amy said, before turning back to her paperwork, indicating the conversation was over. 

The next Friday night, Amy closed the door to her apartment. She kicked off her shoes by the door and dropped her purse onto the kitchen table. Her date with Micah had been a lot more fun than she was expecting. 

She had decided honesty was the best policy and had told Micah about Jake, saying that she was still getting over a serious relationship and that she didn’t want everything to move too quickly. To her great surprise, Micah agreed. He said he had been hurt a few times before and that moving slowly worked well for him. 

For the rest of the date they talked and laughed. Micah told stories about the kids he taught music to while Amy did her best to impress with some wild cop stories. They even shared a few laughs about Rosa. 

Micah had met Rosa the first day of college when they were both moving in. Almost a decade, later, he confessed that he still knew very little about her, other than her terrifying demeanor and fierce loyalty to the ones she held close. 

All in all, it had been one of the best dates Amy had been on in years, and she even found herself forgetting about Jake for the evening. 

Of course, after the night had drawn to a close and Micah had walked her home, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek, Amy sat in the little rocking chair in her bedroom. She stared out into the city lights and her thoughts returned to Jake. It wasn’t quite so sad to think about him anymore, but she still wondered what he was doing. She wondered what Jake would think of Micah, whether he would be jealous or if he would be happy she was moving on. Amy honestly couldn’t say either way, and the thought of it bugged her more than she’d care to admit. 

As the months wore on, Amy continued seeing Micah about once a week. They hadn’t progressed further than a goodnight kiss, but she genuinely enjoyed talking with him and spending time with him. In return, Micah didn’t seem at all put out by her never inviting him up to her place and he was very gracious every time she had to cancel on him because of work.

In the back of her head, Amy wondered if it meant something that she wasn’t able to take things further with him. She usually pushed that thought away, thinking that when she was ready to take that step she would know. 

Fate reared its ugly head again the following April. 

It started out so simply. The squad was going to Shaw’s on Friday after a particularly grueling week. Hartford had innocently asked if the group was finally going to get to meet Amy’s new man, which prompted squeals from Boyle and a meaningful look from Rosa. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Amy agreed to get Micah. A part of her hoped he already had plans for the night. 

_Does that say something about their relationship?_

When Micah responded that his music students were putting on a concert that night, but that he would try to swing by afterwards, the squad seemed satisfied. 

That night, as the Nine-Nine filed into Shaw’s Bar, Amy caught sight of something that made her do a double-take. 

Before the words could form in her mouth, Boyle was screaming “JAKEY!” And took off full speed towards the one and only Jake Peralta. 

Amy felt her feet moving as she followed Rosa up to the bar. She tore her eyes away from Jake, who didn’t appear to have seen her yet, just in time to see the bartender line up four shots in front of her and Rosa. With a glance towards her fellow detective, Amy swallowed two of the shots in quick succession. 

“So eager to climb the Santiago scale?” A voice asked from right next to her. In her surprise, Amy dropped the thankfully-empty shot glass she was still holding. Luckily, a hand reached out and grabbed it just before it shattered against the counter of the bar. Amy turned and found herself once again staring into the eyes of Jake Peralta. 

“Hey, Ames,” he said, a little smirk on his lips. It was a ghost of the smile she knew, but it bore much more of a passing resemblance than any that she had seen since he left almost a year and a half earlier. 

“Jake,” she spluttered. Half of her wanted to grab him in a hug, the other half wanted to slap the smirk right off his face. “You’re back in New York?”  


“For now,” he replied. “The Manhattan office is running an op soon and because I’m familiar with the area and the local crime rings, my bosses agreed to lend me out.”

She had no words. Silly Amy, but she kind of thought that if Jake was ever planning to return to New York, she would get a heads up. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she eventually said. “What about your…ghosts?” 

“Honestly, it wasn’t as hard as I thought. I mean, I was right, it’s hard to walk down the streets and not be constantly reminded of her, but I’m also reminded of good things. Sal’s Pizza, for one. This bar, the arcade Gina and I would hit every day after school. And of course, you.” 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, unable to control how rude she probably sounded. 

A crinkle appeared in Jake’s forehead, right between his eyebrows. “Rosa picked me up from the airport. I thought she would have told you..”

The two of them turned to Rosa, who had been unabashedly listening on their conversation. She simply shrugged. “Oops.” 

Jake rolled his eyes and turned back to Amy. “Can we grab a booth? Maybe talk, catch up a little?”

Against her will, Amy’s eyes darted towards the door of Shaw’s. It would be just her luck for Micah to walk in at that moment. Blessedly, the door remained shut and no one appeared. 

“Sure,” she said, eyes flitting back to Jake’s face. 

He smiled, a bright smile that lit up his face just like the old days. Against her will, her heart flipped at the sight of it and she smiled back. 

“So,” she started as they settled into a booth. “How’s San Francisco?” 

Jake shrugged. “It’s fine. A little foggy for my taste and nowhere near as exciting as Brooklyn. How are things at the Nine-Nine?”

Amy nodded, “Good, everything’s good. I have a new partner, her name is Shelly Hartford.” Amy paused to point out where Hartford was sitting, unfortunately sandwiched between Hitchcock and Scully. “Everyone else is pretty much the same, Rosa’s still terrifying, Gina is still…Gina, Terry’s kids are growing up fast and so is Boyle’s.”

Jake almost spit out his drink. “Boyle has a kid? But what about his uhh… lost swimmers…” 

Amy stared at him blankly, “He and Genevieve adopted Nikolaj last summer. I’m his godmother. I can’t believe Charles didn’t tell you at the funeral. He brought a whole scrapbook of pictures to show you.”

Jake shook his head sadly, “No, he didn’t say anything. Wow. I’ve really been a crappy friend.”

Amy raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment. 

“So how about you,” Jake asked, turning back towards her. “What have you been up to?”

Amy tensed for a moment. “Ah, you know, the usual. Work, seeing my brothers’ kids. Nothing too exciting.”

She caught his glance, and she could see the question forming in his mind. 

_Don’t ask._

_Don’t ask._

_Please for the love of God don’t ask_.

Apparently God either didn’t hear her prayers or decided to ignore them, because the next thing out of Jake’s mouth was, “Cool. Are you, uh, are you seeing anyone?”

“Yes,” she whispered, trying not to notice the sinking of his shoulders.

“Cool, cool cool cool cool cool. What’s he like?”

“Jake, we don’t have to do this,” she said. “You left, remember? Did you expect me to sit around heartbroken forever?”

“Expect? No, absolutely not,” he replied, taking a swig of his beer. “Did I hope? Of course. I’m not surprised though.”

Embarrassment and anger flooded through her body like a white-hot river. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

Jake’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake, “NO! No, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’re amazing, and someone was bound to snatch you up sooner or later. I didn’t mean anything bad, I swear.” 

Amy relaxed slightly. Jake wasn’t the kind of guy to make sexist remarks like that, so maybe she’d let this one slide. 

Just as she settled back into her seat, the door chimed and she saw Micah walk in. Quickly grabbing her things, she made to stand up to greet him. 

“Sorry, Jake. I’ve got to run. It was good seeing you again you look…you look well. Good luck on your case.”

He grabbed her wrist, hurt evident in his eyes. “Leaving so soon?”

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“Can I see you again before I leave?” He asked, a note of hope in his voice. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He deflated and released her wrist. “Ames, you should know… I’m requesting a permanent transfer back to New York.” 

Amy’s eyes widened in shock, and all she could do was turn and walk away. She met Micah by the door and made an excuse of not feeling well. And honestly, it wasn’t that far off the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to the happy ending, guys! I wrote out an ending for this story but I'm really not happy with it and have been toying around with completely changing the direction. We'll see, I guess. If I do rewrite it's going to be awhile before the next update because the next chapter will be affected by the direction I choose. If I continue as already written, theres 2-3 more chapters. If I do a complete rewrite of the end it'll be more like 4-5 more. 
> 
> I also realized that I am a clown. This story was inspired by Taylor Swift's "All Too Well", but when I posted the first chapter at 3 in the morning, my little pea brain titled it "I Almost Do", which is a completely different song. At this point, my instinct is to just leave the title as is, but I was thinking of doing a little one-shot from Jake's perspective using "I Almost Do". Do y'all think I should change it or just leave it as is? 
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and really kind reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I know it's been awhile since last update, but I was consumed with moving back to school, an overwhelming amount of work, and general writer's block. I've exhausted all of my previously written material, so updates will be slower now, but I'm not abandoning this!
> 
> Here is the latest chapter, completely un-proofread (oops)
> 
> As y'all can see I decided to go ahead and change the title of this fic because it was really bothering me (so sorry if I confused anyone). Thank you so so so much for all the kudos and kind words, those were what really motivated me to keep up with this. Only a couple chapters left before we get the reunion we're all waiting for. Don't worry, I'm waiting for it too. 
> 
> As always, I crave any comments, compliments, or criticism. I'm posting this at almost 4 in the morning so I can't keep writing now but it's on my to-do list! Hope y'all are staying safe and healthy :)

Micah had offered to drive her home and she had gratefully accepted. 

“So, who was that guy you were talking to?” He asked, when the drive had been quiet for too long. “You seemed kind of upset.”

Amy sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. “That was Jake,” she answered. Micah’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t press the issue further. 

When they arrived at her place, Micah got out of the car to walk her to the door. 

“Thanks for driving me home,” she said. “Sorry we didn’t stay.” 

Micah waved her off, but when he looked to her, she saw resignation in his face. 

“What’s wrong?” Amy asked. 

“So, your ex is back in town. This is the one that hurt you, right?” When Amy nodded he continued. “Look, Amy, I really like what we’re doing here. I don’t mind taking it this slow. But I need to know if anything’s going on.”

Amy shook her head decisively. “Nothing’s going on. I didn’t even know he was back in New York.” She sighed, “Look, things with Jake are…complicated. And I think it might be about to get even more complicated. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to walk away now.” 

Micah smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m sticking around until you tell me not to.” 

Amy smiled and waved to him as he climbed back into his car and drove off. 

May came and went in the blink of an eye, until suddenly it was May 25th and Boyle was asking her if she wanted to come to the bar for drinks later. She almost agreed, before remembering the date and its significance. There was a good chance they were all getting together to celebrate Jake’s birthday. 

In the month since he was unexpectedly at Shaw’s, Jake’s transfer request had been approved and he had moved back to New York. Boyle was over the moon. Since realizing how much he had missed out on, Jake had doubled his efforts to see Charles and make up for lost time. 

Jake was still with the FBI, so Amy didn’t have to worry about seeing him at work. However, he was apt to join the squad at Shaw’s for drinks. She had seen him a few times since his transfer. Their conversations were short and polite, if a little stilted. She couldn’t bring herself to let Jake back into her life, but she couldn’t deny that seeing him made her heart pound and hearing him laugh released butterflies in her stomach. He was slowly looking and acting more like himself again. 

Amy kept her distance. She understood, and she had forgiven him ages ago. But that didn’t mean she had to put herself through the emotional torture that was spending time with him. The rest of the team had respected her boundaries. Well, for the most part. There had been an incident or two (or five) of Charles trying to trick her into seeing him, but Rosa had put an end to that quickly. 

So it was a shock when Rosa unceremoniously plopped on her desk with nothing but a “Hey, we need to talk.” 

Amy patiently turned her attention to her colleague-turned-friend and invited her to proceed. 

“Jake’s team is moving in on a mob family with ties to the Iannucci group. They want a local to run point, and they asked me. He might be around from time to time, and I just thought you should know.”

Amy picked her pen back up and shrugged her shoulders, feigning indifference. 

“A case is a case, right? Shouldn’t matter to me,” She said. She was going for blasé, but once again her vocal chords betrayed her and squeaked the words out. 

Rosa gave her a once over before thankfully dropping the subject. “Right.”

Later, Amy would curse herself out for the way her heart thumped at the mere mention of his name. For the way her skin flushed, for the way she didn’t even remember until much later to be annoyed that she had been passed up for the opportunity. For the way Micah didn’t cross her mind until his name flashed on her phone. 

In the coming days, Amy was more unlike herself than ever. She pushed paperwork aside in favor of eavesdropping at doors. She ignored Micah’s calls without a single thought. She found herself spending more time at the break room coffee pot in hopes of hearing any details about when the operation would be going down. She received nothing, but that didn’t stop her from trying. 

On June 14th, Amy walked into the precinct and was immediately assaulted by the feeling of dread pooling in her stomach. 

Sitting at the desks usually inhabited by her squad were four federal agents. Their badges weren’t visible but the stiffness of their posture and the cut of their suits gave them away.

Holt was in his office, blatantly ignoring the stacks of paper on his desk in favor of a radio-communication unit. His impeccable posture was nowhere to be found, instead he was slouched over his desk staring at the device, as if praying for it to make a sound. 

Holt’s gaze met Amy’s from across the bullpen. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, and Amy clutched her desk chair to keep from collapsing in nerves. 

Though she didn’t know any details, she knew the op was dangerous. They hadn’t had as much time to infiltrate as they did when Jake went undercover a few years earlier. This family, the Magaldos, though associated with the Iannuccis, were known to be much more dangerous. 

As the rest of the squad filed in, save Rosa, the feeling of despair only grew in Amy’s stomach. The logical portion of her brain knew there was nothing to do but wait for information, but the emotional side was begging her to make sure Rosa and Jake were okay. 

It was a long day of nothing. No one in the office was even pretending to work anymore as they all waited for news. Holt had taken to pacing his office. 

Finally, at 4:12pm, a voice rang over the receiver. “Officer down, requesting immediate backup.” 

Amy felt the darkness and only had one thought before she collapsed. _Please, not Jake._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really terrible about updating, I know! I'm only promising short chapters from now on. This fic has a conclusion and I promise I will get us there.

Amy came to just a few minutes later. She was sat at her desk chair, Terry holding a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. The squad was a flurry of activity. Each of the suits was on the phone and none of them seemed to be getting the answers they were looking for. Holt, too, was on the phone, the crease in his forehead evident from across the bullpen. 

The detectives of the Nine-Nine seemed at a loss. Boyle was frantically pacing. Gina had laid her phone down on the desk, staring at it, silently begging it to ring. Hitchcock and Scully were staring at each other wide-eyed, for once neither had an inappropriate comment to make. 

Amy looked up to meet the Lieutenant’s eyes as she whispered, “Do we know…?” He shook his head sadly, one large hand coming down to rest comfortingly on her shoulder. 

Amy nodded, not trusting her voice. She wished for news of any kind. She wished Rosa was here, her silent strength had a grounding force on the group that was glaringly absent. She wished Jake was here, his half-cocked plans providing some kind of distraction. Mostly, she wished the two of them were here to ease the ache in her chest, the kind that wouldn’t ease until she saw them both alive and healthy. 

There was something niggling at the back of her brain, some vital piece of information that she just couldn’t reach.

The ringing of her phone, shrill and piercing, snapped her out of her thoughts. For the first time in over a year, Amy felt elation at seeing the name “Jake Peralta” flashing on her screen. 

“Hello!?” she answered breathlessly.

“Ames, it’s me.” Jakes voice, devoid of emotion but gratifyingly _alive_ filtered through the speaker. 

“Jake, what’s going on, who’s down?” The questions spilled out, rapid-fire, as if he would somehow slip away if she didn’t get them out quick enough. 

“King’s County Hospital. I have to go,” he responded sounded winded, and then the line went dead. 

Amy put down the phone, her hand shaking. She caught Gina’s eyes from across the room and then looked up at Terry. 

“King’s County,” she ground out. “He didn’t say…” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, but Terry nodded anyway. 

“I’ll drive,” he said. Amy, Gina, and Charles moved to follow him to the elevator. 

“Where do you all think you’re going?” Holt demanded from the doorway of his office. 

“Jake called, sir. He said King’s County Hospital.” Terry replied, his voice a lot calmer than Amy could have managed. 

“We have no news yet,” Holt replied. “Look, I know this is difficult for all of you. Rosa and Jake are part of our little family, but neither of them would want you all to just abandon your posts for them. Until we have any news, I’m afraid you must stay here and do your jobs.”

Terry ground his teeth but nodded, Boyle shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped away, while Gina stood there in mute horror before glaring at the captain and stalking back to her desk. 

Only Amy remained.

“Santiago,” Captain Holt sighed, looking at her. 

“No, sir,” Amy said, her voice stronger than she felt. “Jake called me, and I’m going to him. I respect you, sir, you know how much I respect you, so you know how difficult it is for me to defy your direct order. But I’m going. I need to be there.”

Holt looked at her for a moment, his surprise clearly written on his face. Amy caught his eye and held it, despite every instinct in her body screaming at her to do as he said. 

“Fine,” Holt eventually said. “But we will be talking about this when you return.”

“I understand, sir,” Amy said as she turned pressed the button to call the elevator. When the doors opened, she entered and turned around to find Holt still staring at her, an indiscernible look on his face. 

“Captain, it’s Jake,” she said by way of explanation. “You know I have to.” As the doors closed, she saw him nod his head infinitesimally. 

The drive to the hospital was simultaneously long and short. She knew she felt irritation at the slow New York traffic, but other than that she could not recall a single detail. Her mind moving a million miles an hour, Amy barely resisted the urge to use the car’s sirens and lights to move things along. 

Finally, she arrived. The first thing she registered as she rushed through the front doors of King’s County was that she had no idea what floor to even start on. She briefly considered asking at the reception desk, but since she didn’t know whose name to give as the patient, that was quickly thrown out. 

Instead, Amy made her way to the surgical floor. It went against everything she believed in, but at least if she didn’t recognize anyone there, she could make her way around less urgently. 

As the doors of the hospital’s elevator opened, Amy scanned the vicinity with a trained detective’s eye. There were at least a dozen people sitting in chairs, some unbothered and leafing through magazines, and some rocking back and forth as if they were praying for a miracle. She didn’t doubt that was exactly what they were doing. She didn’t see anything familiar, so Amy turned back to the elevator to call it back. 

Just as she did, a pacing shadow caught her eye. It was at the end of the hall, just out of eyeline, but the shadow looked so familiar that she paused. _Could it be?_

Taking tentative steps towards the shadow, Amy peered around the corner. 

She saw Jake, hair looking messier than usual and his clothes soaked and spattered with blood. As he turned to continue his pacing, the two locked eyes. 

Amy had no semblance of control over her body as her feet moved of their own accord. She suddenly found herself latched onto Jake’s body, staring deeply into the eyes she had once been able to read like her favorite book.  Without a single thought, she crushed her lips to his, relishing in the feeling of his warmth and liveliness against her skin. They stayed locked in this embrace for what seemed like forever, but in all likelihood had only been a few, short, sweet moments. 

Eventually, Jake pulled away, his thumb ghosting over her cheek. “You came,” he breathed, a mixture of relief and shock in his voice. 

“Of course I came,” she replied, equally breathless. “I had to make sure…” she trailed off as her brain finally put together the pieces it had been working on since she had heard Holt’s radio. 

“Oh God,” she whispered, panic flashing in her brown eyes.

“What?” Jake asked, tightening his grip on her. 

“Oh God,” Amy repeated, her brain struggling to come up with anything more coherent. She looked Jake up and down, taking in every detail of his ruined clothes. “They said…” she trailed off, mouth going dry. “They said _officer down_. It’s Rosa. Feds are agents, she was the only… she was the only officer on scene.”

Her eyes met Jake’s again, and for the first time in her life, they were pleading to be wrong. Her heart crumbled when his eyes glazed over. 

“Yeah. Ames, it’s Rosa. And it’s bad.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for kudos and comments. You don't know how much they mean to me. I would have abandoned this story months ago if it weren't for y'all keeping me invested. As I said in the beginning note, this fic has a conclusion. I know where it's going, the only issue is finding the time to write it out. Bear with me, guys! Midterms are over and I want to finish this before finals. I'm not promising anything timeline-wise, but that's my goal. If that doesn't happen, winter break will be the perfect break so I can bang this out. 
> 
> Thank you for your endless support. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Also GO BIRDS!


	7. Chapter 7

Amy’s knees were weak and her head was spinning. She was clutching on to Jake for dear life, and it seemed like he was holding on just as tight. 

Her mouth opened and closed several times, unable to find words to adequately describe the turmoil she was feeling. She looked at Jake and he stared right back, seeming to understand what she couldn’t say. 

“She saved my life,” he whispered, voice cracking. “She shouldn’t have been there and she was…” Suddenly, Amy was the one supporting him. He leaned heavily into her and her body went into autopilot, gently maneuvering them to the waiting room chairs. 

Jake’s chest heaved and she watched him fruitlessly struggle against the tears in his eyes. She held on tight, whispering comfort in his ears as he struggled to catch his breath. 

When his breathing eventually evened out, she tried again. “Jake, tell me what happened.”

He removed his arms from where they had been latched onto her middle section and furiously scrubbed at his eyes. 

“It was a bad op,” he eventually said. “They knew we were coming, we didn’t stand a chance,” he heaved out. “It all happened so fast, their guns were drawn before we could even clock the situation.

“They remembered me. One of their guys was a transplant from the Iannuccis and he recognized me. They fired… I closed my eyes and then Rosa was on the ground in front of me. She took the bullets. She wasn’t even wearing a vest.”

Amy watched him unravel in mute horror. One part of her was unsurprised. For all her rough exterior, Rosa was unwaveringly loyal and would do anything to protect the people she loved. And Amy knew that Rosa and Jake had a history going way back to their days in the Academy. The other part of her wanted to scream. _What was she thinking?_ Diving in front of a bullet without so much as a vest for protection? 

“What happened after that?” Amy managed to ask, her voice quiet so as to not shake him up even more.

“I don’t even know,” Jake admitted. “I guess the backup team heard the shots and came in. But Rosa was bleeding so much… God, there was _so much blood_. They let me ride in the ambulance with her, but the second we got here they took her away. She’s in surgery right now, but they won’t tell me anything.” 

Amy had no more words. She just hugged Jake close to her chest and stared down the hallway with unseeing eyes. 

Eventually, members of the Nine Nine filtered in as the news spread. Jake was briefly taken away to give his statement to the case agent, but returned in less than an hour. He made brief eye contact with Amy before choosing a seat far away from the rest of the squad. He hung his head in his hands and didn’t remove it for hours. 

Rosa’s parents came by, but they couldn’t get any more answers from the doctors. All any of them knew was that Rosa was in surgery and that someone would update them when it was done. 

Amy felt sick to her stomach. 

Hours passed without so much as an update from the doctors. Rosa’s parents sat in chairs in the corner, clutching hands and whispering an endless stream of prayers. Amy sent up a few herself. As the day turned into night, several members of the Nine Nine reluctantly left the waiting room to return home to their families or to get a few hours of sleep before their shift the next morning. Mr. and Mrs. Diaz, Jake, and Amy remained in their seats.

Around 2 o’clock in the morning, a weary-looking doctor trudged into the waiting room, scrub cap in hands. 

“Diaz?” He called out and all four of them scrambled to their feet. The doctor glanced at Amy and Jake, wary of giving out patient information to non-family, but shrugged when Rosa’s parents shuffled in front of him. 

“Hi I’m Dr. Walters, I was just in surgery with Rosa. She was shot three times. The first was a through-and-through wound in her arm that thankfully missed any major nerves and arteries. It tore through the muscle but it should heal just fine. The second bullet was lodged in her abdomen. It caused some rupture of her small intestine but we were able to control the damage and don’t anticipate any complications.

The third bullet was a little trickier. It sliced through her liver and a portion of her stomach. We did our best to control the damage, but she lost a lot of blood and we had to resect a portion of her liver. The good news is that the liver is a regenerative organ, and we’re confident that given time, it will heal itself.”

Amy’s heart thumped loudly in her chest as her mind swam with all the information. “So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying that she’s out of surgery. Her condition is stable, but still critical. She lost _a lot_ of blood in the field, and then more during the operation. We have her in a medically induced coma right now and she’s in the ICU. We’ll know more in a few days but for now she’s okay.”

He turned to Rosa’s mother, his kind eyes connecting with her panicked ones as he rested a hand on her arm. “Mrs. Diaz, your daughter is strong as hell. She’s been through a lot and she’s still here with us. Believe me, this is good news.” 

Mrs. Diaz nodded slowly, still looking shell-shocked. 

“Can we see her?” Mr. Diaz spoke up for the first time. 

Dr. Walters’s face turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, the risk of infection is too high for you to sit with her right now, but once they have her settled, I can send a nurse to come get you and you can see her through the window to her room. Would you like to do that?” 

Mr. and Mrs. Diaz nodded vigorously. 

“Okay then. Someone will be with you soon,” Walters said. He turned to Jake and Amy. “I’m sorry but the ICU is family only, I can’t let you two up.”

Mrs. Diaz looked like she was about to protest, but Amy spoke up first, “No, that’s fine. Thank you. For everything.”

Dr. Walters nodded to her and headed back out of the waiting room. As his footsteps retreated Amy glanced over at Jake, who had been suspiciously silent during the whole exchange. The look she saw on his face was one she knew very well. It told her that he was just moments away from slipping off his mental cliff. 

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Amy said to the Diazes. “If you get a chance, will you please call me with any updates?” 

Mr. Diaz nodded. “Thank you for being here. It’s good to know my little girl has good friends like you in her corner.” 

Amy felt her eyes prick with tears, but she blinked them back as she smiled at him one last time. 

“Come on, Jake,” she whispered, grabbing his forearm and half-dragging him towards the elevators. 

The second the elevator doors closed, Jake turned to Amy, eyes shining with tears. “Ames,” he whispered pitifully. 

“I know,” she whispered back soothingly. She gripped his hand tightly. He squeezed back with just as much pressure. “Just hold on for a few more minutes.” He looked deeply into her eyes before sucking in a deep breath and nodding. 

When the doors opened, Amy took the lead and directed him towards the exit. He trailed behind, his grip never loosening on her hand.  She managed to lead him to her car and get him sat in the passenger seat. In the time it took her to cross around to the driver’s side, the floodgates had opened and Jake was openly sobbing in his seat. Amy had never seen Jake cry this hard, not even at his mother’s funeral. She rubbed circles on his back quietly. He needed to release this. 

Finally, Jake managed to quiet his sobs and was reduced to making noises halfway between a gasp and a hiccup. 

“She’s… in such bad shape… and it’s all… my… fault…” He managed between breaths.

“Jake, no.” Amy said sharply. “Rosa will be fine, you heard the doctor. She’s tough. Tougher than you and I. She’s going to be fine. And she’d kick your ass if she knew you were blaming yourself.” 

Jake snorted, but his expression quickly sobered. 

“Those bullets were for me. And I brought her into the op.” he said. “How can it not be my fault?”

“You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. And Rosa knew the dangers. And she’s going to be _fine_.” 

Jake sighed, but didn’t say anything else. Amy knew he disagreed, but was obviously too tired to keep fighting it. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Jake leaned his head back against the headrest. “Will you take me home?” He asked quietly. 

Amy nodded and squeezed his hand one more time before releasing him and starting the car. It had been a very long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, yes I suck. I doubt I'll be meeting the goal I set for myself last chapter of finishing before final exams. I'm on Thanksgiving break right now so I'll try to bang out another chapter before classes start again on Monday, but if I don't this is most likely the last chapter until after finals. I'm sorry!!
> 
> I absolutely LOVED your reactions to the last chapter. Many of you seem to think this means the end of Micah... boy do I have some bad news for you guys lol. I can't make it that easy, where would the fun in that be?? Mwahaha. We've barely scratched the surface on that whole situation. I can't wait for you guys to see what I have in store for you. 
> 
> I tried my best with the medical jargon but before anyone comes for my neck - I am not a doctor, I will never be a doctor, I'm just a girl who has been watching way too much Grey's Anatomy lately. In my mind Dr. Walters looks like Derek Shepherd, but maybe that's just me having a crush on Patrick Dempsey. 
> 
> Anyway, as always thank you for the comments and kudos!! Criticism or suggestions are always welcome!! 
> 
> Til next time!
> 
> -masterof0ne


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this took me ages longer than I had hoped. More explanations at the end but for now enjoy! :)

The next few days were spent waiting not-so-patiently by the phone, hoping like hell that it would ring with a call from Rosa’s mother. 

Amy went through the motions of her days. She woke up, showered, went to work, came home, and tried to distract herself. For all his bluster that day at the precinct, Captain Holt had very little to say about Amy going to the hospital against his orders. She had been called into his office the next day, expecting to be placed on desk duty or even suspended. But Holt had merely asked her how Rosa was doing and how Jake was handling the situation. She hadn’t had much to say on either front. Rosa was in a medically-induced coma and they wouldn’t know more about her condition for a few days. Jake was… well, Amy had no idea how Jake was doing. 

She had dropped him off at his apartment that night after a completely silent drive. Every time she glanced over, all she could see was a statue. He stared out the window with glazed eyes and hadn’t seemed to notice when she stopped the car outside his building. After a nudge or two, he seemed to regain his bearings, muttering a quick “Thanks,” as he undid his seatbelt and opened the door. 

She had whispered goodnight to him, but the passenger door had slammed before the word formed, her voice fading into the night. 

She had expected to hear from him the next day, or the day after, or the day after that, but there was nothing. Not a text nor call. If she knew Jake, and she wasn’t completely sure she did anymore, she thought he would have holed himself up in his apartment for a day or two before throwing himself headfirst into work and into getting justice for what happened to Rosa. But still, she would have liked to hear from him. 

On top of everything, when she wasn’t worrying about Rosa her brain was playing one memory on constant loop. 

_She had kissed Jake_. 

It wasn’t something she had planned to do, but the relief of seeing him alive and unhurt had made her brain malfunction and she had no control over her reaction. The worst part was that she didn’t regret it. Even after so much time and pain, her heart refused to regret the feeling of his lips on hers again. 

And yet still, she felt guilty. The kiss had happened mere moments before realizing that yes, while Jake was okay, her best friend was at that very minute fighting for her life. On top of that, her thoughts kept going back to Micah. Amy had no idea where her relationship was with Micah, if one could even call it a relationship. 

She liked Micah, she truly did. He was nice, funny, and had so many interests in common with her. Being with him was as easy as breathing. And yet, she was still reluctant to move forward with him. Part of it was fear. You didn’t have to be a psychologist to realize that Amy had been devastated by the end of her relationship with Jake and that she was scared to move in that direction with someone else. She _liked_ Micah, and the last thing she wanted to do was lead him on. And yet, ever since Rosa’s injury, she had been ignoring his texts and sending his calls to voicemail. She knew she needed to talk to him, but she also needed to sort herself out and make some tough decisions.

For instance, what to do about the Jake of it all. She knew in her heart that she still loved Jake. She would always love Jake, as she had loved him long before they got together. But the fact still remained that he hurt her, and hurt her badly. And now he was back and wanted another shot. _And she had kissed him_. Yes, she loved him. But was she still in love with him? She honestly didn’t know. 

All this thinking was making her brain hurt. 

One week and two days after Rosa had been shot, Amy finally got a reprieve from her inner turmoil. Mrs. Diaz had called her, breathless with exuberance, saying the doctors had reversed Rosa’s coma and that she should be waking up within a day. Amy felt a weight lift from her chest and promised Mrs. Diaz that she would swing by the hospital on her way home from work that day. 

“Well, well, well look who it is,” Rosa crowed when Amy walked into her room at 6:30 that evening. Hair a tangled mess, dressed in a thin, papery hospital gown, and with an uncharacteristic and slightly manic grin, the girl laying in the bed looked very little like the Rosa Amy had come to know. 

“Hi, I’m sorry I tried to get here earlier but I had to finish up some paperwork and there was a guy who tried to bolt from the holding cell and then I was gonna get flowers but I thought you would hate that and the only other thing I could think to bring was a hammer but I thought that might be weird so I didn’t bring anything…” Amy trailed off her rambling as Rosa looked at her with that unnerving smile. 

“Flowers are dope.” Rosa announced. “Visitors are dope. This hospital is…”

“Dope?” A voice offered. 

Amy whipped her head around to see Jake half-leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room. 

“Hey,” he said, a wry grin playing at his lips. 

“Hi…,” Amy replied. He looked better than he had the week previously. His hair was in its usual unkempt state and he had bags under his eyes, but his forehead was unwrinkled there was a sparkle back in his eyes.

“All my best friends are here!” Rosa cheered, directing Jake and Amy’s attention back to her. 

“How are you feeling, Rosa?” Amy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I feel fan-fricken-tastic. You guys should take your livers out it feels awesome. I feel so free and floaty..” she trailed off with a dreamy sigh. 

“So… drugs?” Amy asked Jake.

“Lots of em,” he responded. “She’s been like this for over an hour.”

She couldn’t help it. Amy loudly burst out laughing. “Of course she is,” she eventually managed through her giggles. “I’ve never seen her like this.”

Jake was laughing too. “Before you got here she told me I looked like a Muppet. She absolutely refused to tell me which one, but swore up and down that I did.”

Amy giggled again. “I’m thinking Fozzie Bear. All you need is the hat and you’re a dead ringer.”

“Wocka, wocka,” he grumbled throwing up his hands in a half-hearted impression of the character. He tried to keep the amusement off his face but the glint in his brown eyes gave it away. 

Amy snorted. “Yeah, maybe not.”

“My best buddies back together!” Rosa chirped from her bed, effectively breaking the spell between Jake and Amy. “And all it took was an eensy-weensy little accident. I should’ve gotten shot awhile ago… saved myself some time…” she trailed off again, this time her eyes slipping closed, too. 

The pair stood there waiting to see if she was really out or just biding her time, but they eventually received their answer in the form of a light snore.

“Well,” Jake said pushing off the wall, “I guess that’s my cue to leave. I think visiting hours are only for another hour or so but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you hung around.”

Amy shook her head. “Nah, I’ll let her get some rest. Those painkillers are no joke.” She looked up and met Jake’s eyes. He was looking at her with a strange expression, like he had a question to ask or something important to say. From the way his jaw was clenched, however, she knew he was trying hard to keep it to himself. “Walk me to my car?” She asked, taking pity on him. 

“Sure,” he replied easily, the tension in his face melting away. 

The pair made small talk as they wandered towards the parking garage. The image was in stark contrast to the way they had exited together a week earlier. Amy couldn’t stop herself from looking up at Jake as he spoke and making mental comparisons. 

_Last-Week Jake vs. This-Week Jake._

_Before San Francisco vs. After San Fransisco._

This-Week Jake was a clear improvement over Last-Week Jake. The harder thing to figure out was the difference between the guy he had been before he left New York and the man he had become in his return. Physically, there wasn’t much difference. Maybe a little more muscle and less evidence of the pizza he ate daily. His brown hair was still a mess of unruly curls, his brown eyes still twinkled when he told jokes. It was still as simple as ever to differentiate a fake, polite smile from the genuine one that stretched over his entire face and showed every tooth. He still wore flannel shirts under leather jackets and ties so loose they could be blown off with a strong breeze. 

No, the real changes with Jake went below the surface. She had only interacted with him a handful of times since he had come home, but from what she could tell he was energetic, slower to excitement. It was as if the weight of his mother’s illness was still resting on his shoulders. He seemed more mature, though still quick to pipe up with a “Title of your sex tape” joke when the occasion would arise. He seemed more docile. Gone was the immature goofball she had fallen in love with, replaced by a man who walked and talked just like him but with a little more worldly experience tucked under his belt. 

Amy was so lost in thought, she didn’t realize that not only had they reached her car, but Jake was waving a hand in front of her face trying to reclaim her attention. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She asked, shaking her head cartoonishly. 

“You good?” He asked, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. She nodded vigorously and he shrugged. “Well, I was just saying that maybe we should talk about what happened the other day…”

Amy felt her heart drop as blood rushed to her face. Of course he would want to talk about that damn kiss. “Look, Jake, y-you have to understand-” he cut her off by holding one hand up. 

“I just wanted to say thanks. You held my hand and drove me home and I was a goddamn mess. After everything between us, you would have been well within your rights to tell me to go to hell, but you stuck around and made sure I was okay.”

“Oh,” Amy breathed out, visibly relaxing. “Of course. You would have done the same for me.”

“I would have,” Jake nodded, “but it’s not the same. Thank you, seriously.”

Amy smiled self consciously at him before turning to fish her keys out of her bag. When she looked up, Jake had taken several steps closer until he was just inches away from Amy. She sucked in a startled breath. 

“And Ames?” He hedged, reaching out a tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t make you talk about that kiss, but I think you should think on it. I know I screwed up before, I know I hurt you badly. But I want you more than I want to breathe, and I think there’s a part of you that still wants me too.”

His eyes were on hers, so intoxicatingly open and honest that she couldn’t bring herself to blink, much less look away. 

“Take your time, Amy. I’ll be here waiting, no matter what you choose.” He leaned in and her eyes closed of their volition. She felt his lips ghost over her forehead. Just as quickly as they had been there, they were gone. Amy’s eyes slid open and she saw Jake’s back as he retreated to his own car. 

Trembling, Amy unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat. She focused on her breathing until it was coming evenly again. Her mind racing a million miles an hour, she didn’t trust herself to put the key in the ignition yet, not with this level of distraction. Instead she sat there and thought and thought and thought until she came to the only conclusion that made sense. 

Phone in hand, she searched her contacts and landed on the one she wanted. With one last shaky breath, she dialed the number and waited as it rang. 

“Hi, Micah. It’s me. I think we need to talk.”

At 11:30 that night, Amy found herself pacing the sidewalk in front of a familiar door. At least ten times already, she had braced herself to ring the bell before chickening out at the last second and resuming her pacing. 

The talk with Micah had been…awkward, to say the least. It was barely a relationship, but Amy knew she owed it to him to make a clean break before doing what she wanted so badly to do. He had been disappointed, but ultimately very gracious. And by the end of it, Amy knew without a doubt she had made the right decision. 

Once again she steeled herself to face the door, finger hovering over the doorbell. 

“Amy?” She heard from behind her. She whipped around to see Jake, arms loaded with what looked like Chinese takeout, standing behind her with a confused expression. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you mean it?” She blurted out, completely ignoring his question. “What you said at the hospital, did you mean it?” 

Jake’s expression quickly shifted from confusion to understanding to cautious excitement. “Every word of it,” he promised, his voice steady. 

“Okay,” she replied, a small grin forming on her lips.

“Okay?” Jake questioned, his smile mimicking hers.

“Yeah, okay,” Amy said before launching herself at him. Jake dropped the bags in his hands, food completely forgotten, and caught her. He spun her around once before planting his lips firmly on hers. 

There they stood for several minutes, the world seemingly coming to a halt around them. Nothing mattered in that moment but the feel of Jake’s body against hers once again. 

When they eventually pulled apart, Jake kept his arms firmly wrapped around Amy’s waist as she lay one hand on his shoulder and the other tangled in his hair. 

“So you’ll give me another chance?” He whispered, voice hoarse and eyes wide. 

“We can start over. From the beginning. I don’t know if you remember, but we started off a little bit like this,” she replied with a smile. 

Jake’s answering smile was brilliant. “How could I ever forget,” he murmured, before kissing her soundly once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay couple notes:
> 
> 1) SO SORRY for how long this took. I graduated university in December and have been trying ever since to get a job in my field and it's been an absolute nightmare thanks to the 'demic. 
> 
> 2) I seriously considered abandoning this fic bc motivation was dry, writer's block was eating me alive, and honestly, I was getting bored of my own writing. But then I saw the announcement of that season 8 will be the last season of B99 (don't txt I'm really upset about it) and I got bowled over by thoughts on how to wrap this up.
> 
> 3) Yes, this will be wrapping up. I haven't decided whether to do one last chapter or to just do an epilogue and call it a day. I'm sorry if it seems rushed. I had a lot more plans especially re: Micah and his and Amy's relationship but again, I got bored with my own writing and I wanted to finish this with a semi-satisfying ending and not just leave it hanging forever. 
> 
> 4) You may remember I mentioned the possibility of a one-shot based on this story - I'm still considering that. It's something that probably won't happen anytime soon if we're being real about my ability to write and post in a timely manner. But it is still running around my brain so never say never!
> 
> 5) (Final Note) I just wanna say thank you so so so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, given kudos, etc. When I started writing this thing in June and eventually posted it in July, all I wanted was to finally finish one of the many stories I've tried to write. I don't think I would have ever put this much thought or effort into it if it wasn't for you kind people. I think if I write more I'll stick to one-shots, but I'm glad to have (almost) finished my very first multi-chapter fic. 
> 
> As always let me know what you think! And I will try to finish this very soon, but I've learned my lesson about making promises I can't (or won't) keep.


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